As Told By: A Black Woman Who Fucked Up the Mac & Cheese

For generations the Washington family has put our foot in Thanksgiving meals and our holidays would always end with our bellies filled, a tad bit drunk and a bad case of the itis (if you know, you know) times have changed since the pandemic and the head-chefs-in-charge cooking matriarchs Grandma and Auntie are getting older and slower (aunt is just lazy) to be honest, everyone could cook but NOBODY and I mean NOBODY could throw down on Mac and cheese like granny. Granny’s traditional Mac and cheese making comes with a harsh story.

My great-grandmother just up and left the family one day taking what little they had left, but one thing that my grandmother found while snooping through her mother’s little book was a cheesy roux recipe which is the key ingredient to the recipe, she held that recipe dear to her heart, I guess that’s her way of appreciating the family she still has.

“Let Jazzy touch them ham hocks again we all gonna die!” the comedian Aunty says while everyone lets out a gut busting laugh. “Nah we can wash that down with that spicey ass cider Nia be bringing” another round of laughs from the Instagram rich uncle always hitting grandma up for money. “Yeah, what MJ’s…..” just as comedian aunty was going to roast something my mamma made, she stopped herself everyone looked at me with smirks and giggles on their face as they forgot I was there. I always that black folks and family gathering shade was minor, but I could admit I was a little but hurt. Black folks are our own harshest critics especially within our families, if you have any sort of flaw deemed unacceptable — it over.

Black folks are our own harshest critics especially within our own families.

My mom has always been someone in the family that had other things to do. We lived a very to-go lifestyle my mother was a PCA and played Basketball, I stayed over the neighbor’s house until she got home which was usually 3:00am. Since mom worked in the medical field that meant that holidays weren't that special, work was work. In an attempt to remain connected to the family somehow, mom would always cook up some last-minute dressing, which was always dry and tasted funny. She would show up to my grandmother’s house with her hefty tubber ware with the red lid and place it near the cranberry sauce, everyone always ignored it.

2021

Girl, that Potatoe salad that I made that 2021 Thanksgiving was slamming! I know it’s sort of an easy recipe, but it was at my Thanksgiving cooking skill level. Even though I’ve always admired my mother for her hard work and resourcefulness but at that moment — fuck her! I didn’t get none of those to-go-cooking skills from her and I was proud. I was looking over the corner of eye in the big spacious kitchen watching everyone make to-go-plates. Finally, a to-go-plate that I can be proud of. The best part was that everyone knew it was me! That night after getting many compliments and letting that go to my head — I thought about how easy it might be to make Mac and Chesse? it’s just cheese and noodles right? right! so I decided that IM MAKING THE MAC & CHEESE NEXT YEAR!

2022

I was bragging to my first-time serious relationship boyfriend (we’re engaged now) that his family is going to be happy with me bringing the Mac & cheese. I was a little big-headed and too cocky while the mac and cheese was sitting safely on my lap on the car ride to his aunt’s house. “you told somebody you was making that?” he said “no!” I said too quickly and confidently, I should’ve taken that comment he made as a bad omen for what was about to come. We pulled up to a brown townhouse with the front door open, I could see lots of people, laughing and hugging each other. For some reason the vibe for me changed, I felt sick to my stomach for some reason and then I started breathing heavy as we pulled up to the curb. “oh my god it’s his family” I said to myself. I looked to my boyfriend for reassurance. He gave me his sweet simple smile and we continued on.

Things went well, his family was nice and — even his mom — like his mom was nice to me! I forgot all about the Mac & Cheese that I laid out on the counter with the rest of the food until my boyfriend’s brother (a real asshole) shouted out loud “ayoo” my boyfriend’s family is used to him being loud so they sort of ignore him. He goes again “yo!” this time laughing

“who made this dry ass shit!” he continues he then lifts his paper plate in the air and there it was — -MY MAC & CHEESE! my boyfriend looked at and looked at his family. We tried to go about our conversation, but this asshole kept going on about it. His great-aunt Jess then walks over to my mac & cheese and looks arounds “girl, that don’t look right!” his brother adds on “the cheese just kind of sitting there.”

I was sitting there guilty while my man stands there with me, guilty by association. “She bought that right?” one of his family members whispers snakingly pointing at me. I could feel my stomach drop, all sorts of thoughts started running through my mind like how useless they would think of me that I can’t feed their son/brother a basic traditional meal (they’re deep Southern by the way) I looked around again and people were looking at me and the Mac & Cheese, even worse people started going up to the counter to look at the mac and cheese — even taste testing it!

The worst part about the night is that no one seemed to let it go, I think I saw someone taking pictures too. I didn’t want to wind up being a bad Thanksgiving meme. I know that it sounds so odd to get emotional about food, but I was. I felt like a child again, being left at my family’s house every Thanksgiving while my mom slaved away as a PCA at someone’s house. I felt like that little girl sitting in grandma’s living room and eating delious hot food while my mom’s dressing sat in the cold while people talked about how hard she worked, and she was never around. I think I took Thanksgiving meals too seriously; I think the little latch key girl in me wanted to break this to-go cycle.

My man’s mother who started out being nice started being nice-nasty. Whispering in her sister’s ear looking around and chuckling. As we sat on the couch, things died down a little bit. His mom started getting a little too inquisitive. “Where do you work?” she asked “I’m a pre-K teacher” I say hoping that that somehow would save me. “Oh wow” she says in this condescending tone looking over at her sister. All black folks know about that nice-nasty way of ourselves, especially when we’re in front of people. “Shawn, what happened to that girl that um — made that chicken last time?” this time his mom spoke a little louder and her sister tapped her big arm motioning her to shut up. I looked at Shawn and Shawn looked me. I tried to dissociate by watching Netflix on the big screen in the Livingroom. “Huh Shawn?” his mother was being a mean girl at this point, I started fuming to myself.

“Girl shut the hell up!” her sister said while laughing I looked back down onto my plate same black traditional meals; Fried Cabbage, honey glazed cornbread, nice and moist stuffing, collard greens, someone’s proper mac and cheese and Cranberry sauce. I looked at the Mac & Cheese and I swore it was laughing it me, and I felt embarrassed what step did I miss? maybe I should’ve borrowed grandma’s recipe book? am I the only black girl that don’t know how to make Mac & Cheese? Is it like a mature thing? maybe I should’ve left it to the aunty with the big arms. As I was sitting there melting into the couch feeling like a scared child, I look over at my man rolling his eyes. I was praying to God he wouldn’t make a scene.

“Ma, the only thing you bring is them Patty Pies and Orange soda” he says. I got a little excited hearing my man stand up for me. “I'm just saying what happened to her?” she said this time nervously laughing “it was that rotisserie chicken you get from Wal-Mart” he said eating the rest of the food. If you thought this woman’s pettiness was done, you’re wrong! you would think that gentle humbling would stop her, but it didn’t. Me and Shawn made our way to the kitchen where is great grandma was sitting in her little chair walker thingy. “She C-nile” Shawn whispered in my ear.

As I’m looking at the journey and years of her life on her wrinkled skin, I wondered how she perfected her Mac & Cheese through the years, did she have someone to guide her? or was it innate? things just come naturally to other black people, you ever see an old Southern mama or tough good-cooking aunty and wonder how they do it? At the corner of my eye, I see that bitch again walking toward us, I knew she was coming to start some shit and I was more annoyed with that weird Woddle she had, again me trying to be polite I kept my stank face to myself. So, she then walks over to the counter of food again further observing my dry Mac & Cheese that we already made fun of. I tried to pay attention to other family members while simultaneously trying to be unbothered. I kept thinking to myself God why?

“Yeah, girl” she says shouting over to her sister, this time her sister and another cackling hyena started giggling. This time I could feel tears coming out of my eyes. Why was she being so mean to me? we were staring off so good! oh my god did I just break a rule or something? I knew I was too bold to make Mac & Cheese on the first try and bring it to a family gathering — but damn! I started wishing this was a white household with Rasin casserole, they wouldn’t make a big deal of this. “Why my son always — -” his mom stops herself in her tracks. “Be quiet now girl!” another elder demands. This time a tear accidently falls and Shawn looks angry. “Get your coat!” Shawn like the hero I always thought he was, grabs my Mustard Brown puffer coat off the couch from the Livingroom. His asshole brother, mom and aunt both look my way. “What happened Shawn!?”

Shawn walks away “see that’s why nobody like you!” his aunt said, again just laughing at the whole thing and vibing. “Right, that why Debbie not here!” Shawn replies, further instigating his aunt gasps. “You mad because your girl bought dry ass mac & Cheese?” she says, it got bad, and I wanted to leave. “Bye, get a life you can’t cook anyway dad’s new wife is better!” Shawn says while zipping his coat, his mom looked flabbergasted, and I was here for it bitch! As we get back into his car, I apologized I don’t know why I was apologizing, but I felt bad that he had to stand up to his mom on Thanksgiving, it takes a lot for black men to stand up to family, especially their moms.

The way home was quiet but for a moment I kept thinking of a way I could’ve perfected that damn Mac & Cheese. Then I thought to myself I’m okay with the Mac & Cheese and at that moment I sort of allowed myself to be a work in progress, I’m the Black woman who fucked up the Mac & Cheese that one time and I’m a black woman who is allowed to make mistakes.

I’ll say it again I’M A BLACK WOMAN AND I CAN’T COOK FOR SHIT!